Figments of Reality
by rikkucheerio
Summary: GorenOC This was inspired by A Beautiful Mind. I realize this is a cliched subject, but the similiarities between John Nash and Bobby are pretty striking.
1. IAB

_IAB is a cop's worst nightmare. When the rat squad goes head hunting, you can be sure they're trying their damnedest to bring someone down. They have no qualms about bringing down good cops, cops who're being set up. They prey on whoever gets handed to them and not search out who it is that's doing the handing. Don't bite the hand that feeds you, right?_

I'm not claustrophobic, but this sterile room is unnervingly tiny with its lack of windows and anything else for that matter. It looks surprisingly like the interrogation room a few floors down, complete with gray cinderblock walls. One steel table, two chairs, and not a bit of warmth in sight.

The large Hawaiian man sitting across from me is boring holes into my head with his eyes. He puts his hands on the table and laces his fingers together. I prop my elbow on the table, fingers at my lips, eyebrow cocked, daring him to start his barrage of questions. I'm not afraid of him. I know what he wants to hear and because I don't give a damn anymore, I'm going to roll over and take it. I'm not going to give him what he wants, but in by doing that, I'll probably just be doing their dirty work for them. Feeding him bullshit would just expedite the process.

"Detective Goren, you're aware of why you're here, right?" he finally asks. His voice has false warmth in it, making me hate him even more. He doesn't care what happens to me, just so long as in the end, I'm gone.

"It could be any number of reasons, actually," I respond, gesturing slightly. "Now, let's see, it could be that I'm insubordinate, I'm a 'rogue cop' as you put it once, I'm in league with the Devil…"

He bristles slightly, but sees fit to interrupt me. "You have several files on your computer that are linked to organized crime. What do you have to say about that?"

Curve ball. Not what I was expecting. "Were they in folders organized by family?" Internally, I roll my eyes. Lame.

"Either you know something or you don't and I'm inclined to think that you do." I've pissed him off enough that his voice has lost that façade of caring it had before.

"No, I don't," I answer firmly.

"Then how did you come to have these files?"

"I don't know that, either. I certainly didn't put them there."

"So, what you're telling me is that some how, you have incriminating files on _your_ machine, yet, _you_ didn't put them there? My mistake, Detective, perhaps I should be talking to Harvey instead." He paused and started to bore holes into my head again. "I'll ask you again: How did you get those files?"

"I. Don't. Know."

He sits back and sighs, apparently content enough with my answer. He knows he's not going to get anywhere with this line of questioning.

He leans forward again. "You are not to tell anyone of this meeting. No one is to know I questioned you about the files. Do you understand?"

Unusual request. The light overhead flickers a couple times, drawing my attention to it. "Yes."


	2. Rumors and Panic

I've had quite enough of this guy. I get up to leave, but he apparently hasn't had enough of me, yet.

"One more thing, Detective. As per your restriction to deskwork, you are to report to me every morning." He flashed me a smarmy smile. "I need to make sure you're not…getting into more trouble."

Terrific. I need that like I need a hole in the head. "Anything else, Lieutenant?" I ask making sure he was finally done yammering at me.

He fixes me with that icy stare again. "You're dismissed."

I return the look before heading to the door. Have I mentioned how much I hate that guy? Heading out into the hallway, I get more looks from the other people passing through. They look at me as though I'd just done something strange. I know my reputation precedes me and I'm sure the rumor mill is churning full force. The great, weird, infamous Robert Goren was on suspension! Believe it or not, I make mistakes.

I heard through the grapevine that the current popular rumor is that Alex and I were finally caught sleeping together. It amuses me how unperceptive people can be. We had an affair two years ago and contrary to popular belief, it didn't work out, thus we are not currently sleeping together.

My temper finally caught up with me and I ended up in a shouting match with the wrong people. By then, I was already run ragged, caring very little about what I was doing and I was barely making it through my days with my sanity intact. IAB had already started poking around, my mother had fallen ill, Andy had…

Why is it that people think pushing the elevator call button will make it come any faster? I've pushed it maybe six times already, yet it keeps stopping on all the lower floors. My breath has sped up; my pulse had skyrocketed, just from having stumbled into that section of mental no-man's land. The elevator doors slide open and thankfully, the thing is empty. I step in and press my back against the far wall, closing my eyes. The sooner I calm down, the better. I'm ashamed of these panic attacks I have whenever I dredge up the mental sludge from those terrible few days. I'll be okay; I'll live.

Opening my eyes, I watch as the 11 lights up on the number strip and the doors slide open. Alex looks up from her paperwork and smiles, but it fades quickly. She gives me a look. What is it with people giving me looks today?

"You okay?" she asks. "You look pale."

Figures. "Yeah, I'm fine."

She didn't buy it. Sighing, she picks up a post-it note with words scribbled on it and hands it to me.

"Andy called. She wants you to meet her for lunch."

I smile, taking the post-it from her. "Thanks."

"Is she back at work?"

"Yeah. She went back Monday. She wanted to jump right in, but VanBuren has her riding a desk for a while." More sludge.

"Oh, and while you were doing whatever the hell it was that you were doing, Officer…" she picked up a stack of papers with a post-it on top, reading the name scribbled on it, "Haynsworth dropped these off for you."

I take the papers from her and flip through them quickly. Reports I've been waiting for. "Thanks."

"Next time you run off to wherever, hire a secretary."

I look up from reading something in the report and smile at her. "That's not your job?"

"No." She smiles back.

I go back to reading, but I can see she's still looking at me. I look up again. Her jovial smile has morphed into one of sadness and understanding.

"What?"

"Bobby, call your wife."

"Lunch, right."


	3. From the 27

_A/N: Okay, so, first of all, thanks for all the reviews. I love feedback. Secondly, since I've gotten my foot in the door, I should take a moment to give a little more insight into my work. Andy is Andrea Viviano, LizzieB's original character. We role-play together at LJ; I play Bobby and Liz plays Andy. The rest is history in the making._

Wandering into the 2-7, I made my way over to Andy's desk and perched on the edge of it.

"I was told there's a cute Italian detective who's free for lunch. Please don't tell me I've been lead astray."

"You were led astray a long time ago, handsome." Andy smiled up at me. "However, you've found the right Italian detective who is free for lunch."

With a warm smile, I stand up and offer her my hand. "Shall we, my bellezza Italiana?" The bruise on her cheekbone has faded to a disgusting shade of blue, but the two little white butterfly bandages draw more attention to it. The memory isn't willing to let go so easily. Either way, she's still my Italian beauty.

She puts her hand in mine and stands up, "Lead on, McDuff." Walking out of the precinct, I link my arm with hers and smile down at her.

"So, where do you want to go?"

"Milan, but I'll settle for the deli down the street."  
"Milan it is, then."  
She rolls her eyes. "You've got a plane waiting to whisk me away, handsome?"

"Okay, you got me. I don't."  
"I win again. You are never going to learn, are you?" She smiles beautifully.

I return the smile and kiss her cheek. "Never." As long as I never learn, she'll keep smiling like that.

"Good. I like winning."

"I know you do. You cheat and I let you get away with it." Arriving at the deli, I pull the door open for Andy.

"Well, how else was I supposed to get you to marry me but cheat you into it?" Andy grins as she strides past me into the deli. Pausing just outside, I look over my shoulder, having caught sight of something. I think the horrible Lieutenant is following me. I wouldn't put it past him, honestly. Frowning, I follow her inside. IAB doesn't like that I'm with her. A few years back, they thought she was dirty because of her Uncle's 'friends'. I don't care what they think, or suspect, or are even theorizing about; I know her better than I know myself and she has never been nor will ever be dirty.

"Oh, so that's how you did it?" Standing beside her, I casually wrapped my arm around her waist.

"It was a more economic way than handcuffing you until you said yes." She leans into me slightly. Since I got her back, I've made every excuse to be in physical contact with her. It's like I want to be sure she's really there next to me. In a backwards sort of way, it reminds me of a quote from a Winnie the Pooh story.

_Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. "Pooh," he whispered._

_"Yes, Piglet?"_

_"Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw, "I just wanted to be sure of you."_


End file.
